


Better

by again



Category: Queer as Folk (US)
Genre: Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 04
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-15
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-10 14:13:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17427440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/again/pseuds/again
Summary: Midnight. Freaking out. Set in S4 after ep 9.





	1. Chapter 1

The wind kissed his cheeks, the fur of the creature underneath him brushed the sides of his feet. Lord Mayor set his posture for a moment before leaping forward, hopping over the tall white fence with a neigh, silver lush hair fluttering back, slapping Justin on his chest. 

Justin laughed loosely, swallowing air and the scent of horse crap, and the morning dew by the green field across. He could do this over and over again, no problem at all. He probably already did.

Lord Mayor tapped the ground, strolling around in the glow of the early sun, where the birds were all chirping away, and hues of orange and purple and black melded together, if he squinted small enough. A figure by the barn shook his head, snorting while holding a mug. Justin smiled. 

Cheery yells were heard then, and two of his kids stomped about in the mud, racing to get to him. They grasped to the white fences, still in their blue-bananas pajamas, and they raised themselves on the platform to wave their tiny hands to his shadow.

“Titties are overrated,” they shouted vibrantly.

“What?” he frowned, holding tight to the leash around Mr. Mayor. Then nothing.

He fisted the blanket around him, covering his bare arms. Justin didn’t want to open his eyes yet, still in the state where he could fall asleep easily if he willed it, but Brian’s mumbles of nonsense behind him kept him conscious. Not to mention the restless writhing and the blanket tugging—he tugged it back to his shoulder. Huffing annoyed, Justin tried to lull himself back to that nice, weird, smelly, dream earlier, his mouth practically drooling already, when Brian turned around and positioned himself to his back, arm wrapping carelessly to his chest.

He lifted his lids immediately.

Justin cupped Brian’s burning palm, and whirled to face his sleeping form. Brian’s eyebrows were all knitted together, face twitching and jaws clenching, unrealizing. He touched his forehead with the back of his hand, and um . . . alright, it was alarming. Shit. Fuck. He got out of the bed, and put on the closest t-shirt in sight, tip-toeing firmly but careful not to creak the wood beneath him to the bathroom.

The lukewarm water streamed down the sink, its noise echoed throughout the marble walls. The towel in his hand felt soft as he let it wet, nearly persuaded him back to a slumber. Justin squeezed the excess and folded it two times before he returned.

Brian was all tucked up and shivering slightly, his face moist from cold sweat. He realized then that it was raining, the individual shades of dribbling water by the huge window panel adorned the entire room. Justin quickly went over to the mattress and placed the damp cloth on his forehead, brushing a few stray hair.

He looked over to the closet’s upper cabinet, and quietly scurried over to pull out some of the white sheets. He spread it open, and covered Brian’s body with it, and hadn’t realized it would be so huge that some of it rolled off the bed and touched Justin’s dirty sneakers. The cleaning lady was so going to kill him. But it was worth it.

He went under the duvet and straightened his legs again, inching towards Brian’s shoulders, closing his eyes, wanting to touch his arms, his cheeks, his neck, just to make sure. Just in case.

Justin shook his head. Brian would be alright. He’d be alright.

It was always better the second day


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not midnight. Still pretty freaked out.

“What’s the specials today?” Brian looked down on the colorful laminated menu, the plastic slick with grease and sticky with specks of hot fudge from the All In Three sundae bowl. Betty tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, opening her mouth to probably start blabbering the same thing she’d mentioned since 6 a.m.

The diner was all hustle and bustle that morning, and Justin almost dropped someone’s belgian waffle because he was too busy gluing his eyes on Brian by the booth with Ted and Emmett, that he didn’t notice an asshole with a ponytail came up close and bumped into him. “S-Sorry,” he gained the tray back to his palm.

Thank god Debbie wasn’t there seeing him slacking off. The horrors.  

He shook his head.

“You know, as glorious as Miss Gloria’s voice is, I pity that she does not have the most glorious manicure advice,” Emmett picked at his cuticles, frowning and raising his cheeks in a disgusted manner while rubbing his fingers together, ‘eugh’-ing at the dead leftover skin around his nails.

Justin could hear Ted's crisp laughter from the table he was picking glasses from, and he smiled to himself.

“No shit,” Brian raised his eyebrows mockingly, slurping his coffee. Justin pocketed the dirty rag in his apron, passing through Brian’s booth again.

Ted paused mid-bite to his syrup-drenched pancakes, “I mean, it’s not like she has time to watch the people do it for her. Not to mention to do it herself.”

“Well,” Brian smacked his lips, sighing, “you know what they say.” He shrugged, “Keep your attitude sharp, but your claws sharper? Is that it?”

Kiki the waitress—formerly Kenny the waiter—sang the jingle from Operation once she set their orders right on the table, her big red wig twirling and bouncing when she walked. Justin found it endearing how the other three bustboys turned in her direction, gaping, fascinated how she could be such character. Obviously, they were new.

"One breakfast wrap," she sang, eyes questioning to the three. Brian streched his smile and raised his finger reluctantly. "Oh." Kiki chuckled, putting a plate down on his side of the table.

She pointed to another dish, "And one spanish eggs." Kiki waited.

Emmett cleared his throat, "Uh, I'm on a-a cleanse, so . . ." he shrugged.

"It's me."

Kiki raised her already high eyebrows, "With tomatoes and onions?" she asked, smirking unbelievingly at Brian, setting her free tray-less hand at her hips, "Really?"

Brian rolled his eyes, "Do you hear a laugh track anywhere?"

Justin passed through them again, "Um, B-Brian . . ." he eyed the plates, _what the fuck_ , carefully moving through two guys in leather vests and a police hat and cheap boots.

A teenager in blue tank top snapped his fingers by the corner, calling for him. Justin groaned, heading the other way and took out his pad. "What do you want?"

"Fine." He heard Kiki hummed nonchalantly to the boys, "Aaannd who ordered one scrumptious blueberry waffle?"

Ted pointed out, "I already got my order before. So." he then yammered some things Justin couldn't decipher. Whatever, they were white noise.

The blue-tanked teen in front of him requested six billion other things for a chili and a meatloaf sandwich, Justin's eyes drooped low from annoyance. Brian didn't want to eat his soups and homemade cuisines, but he would gladly munch them here? Either something wasn't right or Brian was about to face one angry blond in fifteen minutes.

"That's also me, Turner. And no, I didn't grow a second head," Brian's dejected voice rang from where Justin was standing, two rows behind him.

He went back to clip the order--once he finished writing it which seemed like an hour ago--and took another salad dish for table 6, thanking the chef. Justin thought his name was Rick. Or Ryan, or something.

He paused.

There were four plates on Brian's side of the table. He'd heard only three, how did the other one-- His knee hit the counter pretty hard, not noticing again, and one of the stale lemon bars fell over his head. "Fuck."

The whole diner set their eyes on him.

"You okay there, sweetie?" Emmett called.

Justin nodded languishly, and went over to serve the tattooed-girl's salad. She cringed and smiled like she tried to be sympathetic, giving him a generous tip before he went back to his station.

"Watch your front next time, Sunshine," Brian jerked his chin, left cheek filled with food.

Justin huffed, walking to their table, "Brian, are you gonna eat all of these?"

Ted shared a look with him, unrolling his sleeves. He pretended not to notice. Brian chewed, grabbing the salt shaker, "I'm hungry."

"For food? Or justice for America?"

"Your utter demise," he deadpanned. Emmett stuck out his tongue, pulling his pink fur jacket close. His shift was almost over now, just waiting for Deb to come back from wherever she was doing whatever she was doing, with Horvath probably. He could go home if he wanted to.

Brian had just been out of his radiation treatment, like two hours ago. Perhaps it was wiser if they stayed home. 

The first few appointments, he wouldn't let Justin come with him, implying that the hospital was not where he was supposed to be anymore.

But lately, he hadn't minded much, since Justin had been very generously offering to drive him from, and to Allegheny General. Especially when the really bad days hit him and he couldn't even move an inch of his body to move the steer, or to grab a juice from the refrigerator.

From one of the sites he'd looked up, it'd said that the side effects may vary from time to time. Some days he could feel fine, and some days he could feel dead. And some days he could eat four horses, while others not so much.

Brian basically hadn't consumed anything solid these past three days, living on chicken soups and mushroom soups and watered down everything, Justin himself could puke. Maybe this was one of the good days, he thought, as he watched Brian cut down on his ommelet, rolling his eyes at whatever story Ted was telling.

It could be a change maybe. That things would be alright.

-0-

"I'm hungry again." Brian leaned his back on the cement wall an hour later, the familiar gurgles of the toilet flushing down all the waste of his breakfast rang in the room.

Justin pulled a sheet of tissue and wiped Brian's mouth, almost laughing. He sat beside him, shoulder to shoulder, "I still have some leftovers from yesterday."

Brian turned his head, "I'd rather die." Justin laughed, kissing his shoulder. Brian was still clothed with his white crisp shirt and spotless black pants--well not so spotless now but they had been.

He looked up from under his lashes. His lover's/partner's chin was shining, ****hair wet with sweat from retching so hard, and eyes closing slowly from exhaustion.

Justin blinked. He was beautiful -- he was Brian. And nothing could change that.

He laced their fingers. Brian tightened them, as always.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> is this good? is this bad? i mean, idk •_• but thanks for reading :))))))

**Author's Note:**

> So....um this will be like oneshots because I wanted to show that Justin also suffered *with* Brian, not just for him or anything. You know what I mean? 
> 
> Anyway, thanks for reading hehe :)


End file.
